


London Necropolis

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Cemetery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:05:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie contemplates Ray’s fondness for cemeteries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	London Necropolis

Bodie woke that gloomy morning to find himself in a cold, lonely bed. Doyle might’ve started the night with him, but sometime he’d rabbited off in a fit of his recent insomnia.

He didn’t dare call into Headquarters to track down his partner. Bodie spend the morning looking for him and finally found his wayward target at Brookwood Cemetery out in Surrey. Death was an everyday reality for anyone who worked in CI5, but only Ray Doyle sought out cemeteries for a moment of solitude.

After searching the rows, he found Doyle sitting on the grass in front of a group of weathered tombstones. Doyle was sprawled out in a relaxed way only he could pull off in a cemetery.

“How’d you find me?”

“You’re in one of your moods, sunshine. There’s only so many places you’d be.” Bodie sat down beside Doyle on the grass with a grunt. “This is one ‘em. You owe me if I get my new trousers stained.”

Doyle was silent and kept his gaze focused on the headstone in front of him.

With no one around, Bodie dared to pat Doyle’s knee and let his hand linger there. “Morbid you might be, but at least you’re predictable. Penny for your thoughts?”

“Some of my ancestors are buried here,” Doyle said. “My gran talked about coming here when she was a kid. Family tradition. Said she used to take the train here at least once a year with her mum by way of the London Necropolis Railway Station.”

“Never heard of it.”

Doyle shrugged. “Got bombed in the last war. It’s closed now. She’d take me here as a kid to visit the graves and the ol’ gal would lay flowers on the graves. Big tombstones with long fancy names, some had statues. That I remember. Used to feel like they were loomin’ over me.”

“Never told me you came from money.”

“I don’t.” He laughed and licked his chipped tooth. “She did. Never met any of ‘em myself. Old money, but she married below her class. Liked to slum it, I guess. Her family disowned her, but that never stopped my gran from payin’ her respects to those who came before her. Guess I was feelin’ nostalgic today.”

Bodie knew one of Doyle’s regrets wasn’t having a wife and family. Every once in awhile Doyle got nostalgic and morose, falling into the trap of a black mood.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last.” Bodie squeezed Doyle’s knee. He liked the feel of the worn, threadbare jeans under his fingertips. “I’ve got some food in the Capri.”

“Of course you do. Worried I’ll waste away?” Doyle chuckled. He reached over and poked Bodie in the stomach below his ribs. “Don’t have to worry about you, that’s for sure.”

“I’m fit as a fiddle.”

“Broken fiddle, maybe. I’m not ready to eat yet. Let’s go take a walk. I wanna show you something.”

Bodie waggled his eyebrow. “In a cemetery? You dirty lil’...” He grunted and held his stomach when Doyle elbowed him.

“Have some respect for the dead, you berk. I’m takin’ you to see The Glades.”

“That scummy pond I passed?”

Doyle scowled at him. “It’s a memorial lake. We’ll take a run down by the mausoleums after.”

“Thought you’d say that eventually,” Bodie sighed. “I brought our trainers. Are you done pondering the afterlife ‘n’ meaning of the universe, mate?”

“Death doesn’t matter.” Doyle shook his head, then turned to consider Bodie. “The only thing that matters to me is here.”

A slight blush rose on Bodie’s cheeks. Only this man could get past all of Bodie’s carefully constructed barriers. Bodie glanced down at his shoes and scratched at the back of his neck. One minute the contrary bastard could be scrapping with you, lashing out with his nasty temper, and then next making a declaration like that. Loving Ray Doyle was never easy, but Bodie wouldn’t have it any other way.

Doyle reached out and placed his hand over Bodie’s on the back of his neck. “Look at me.”

Bodie bit his bottom lip and shook his head, keeping his gaze down.

“Bodie.” The firm tone didn’t leave any room for refusal.

Bodie shifted, turning his head just enough to take in Doyle’s intense gaze. He never could refuse Doyle something he really wanted.

“If we go, we go out together,” Ray promised. “Though I’m not planning on letting anyone or anything get the better of me, or you.”

Bodie snorted. “Over confident bastard. No one, not even death, would dare cross you.”

“Damn straight, though the Cow tries often enough.” He moved his hand up, running his fingers though Bodie’s closely cropped hair before letting go. “The thing I like about cemeteries is that they remind me that I’m alive. Now, let’s go for a run.”

Bodie nodded, watching as his partner rose with a fluid grace. Truth be told, wherever Ray Doyle went, Bodie was intent on following. Someday, they’d be buried side-by-side. But, if either of them had their way, that day was a long way off.

END.


End file.
